Just What the Truth Is (20 page)

I got a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth and contact. “That’s okay. It’ll give me a chance to go see my parents again. Maybe it’ll be better now that they’ve had a chance to calm down and absorb everything.”

Noah caught my eye and curled his fingers in a circle before raising his hand to his mouth and tilting his head back in a mime of taking a shot. I didn’t understand what he was doing at first, but then I remembered our conversation about my stupid mistakes being a drinking game. What had I done wrong this time?

Micah and I were parked on the opposite side of the lot from Clark and Noah, so we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.

“So what are you going to say to you parents?” Micah asked.

“Nothing brilliant. I just want them to know that I’m still here, I’m still me, and I still love them.”

Suddenly, I registered my mistake. Our last big fight had been about Micah wanting to go with me when I visited my parents, and here I was intentionally planning a visit for a time when he wouldn’t be available. I stopped in my tracks and clasped Micah’s arm, twisting him around until we were facing each other. “Micah, please don’t think that I don’t want my parents to meet you. They will meet you. But I have to get things straightened out between us first. Bringing you into this right now won’t be pleasant for anyone. I know that sounds like a copout or like I’m being spineless, but—”

“I wouldn’t expect you to handle things any other way, Ben.” I could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. “They’re dealing with a big shock right now, and meeting their son’s boyfriend probably won’t help them assimilate all this new information. If they’re anything like I suspect, bringing me in will just add a visual image to something they’re desperately trying to deny.”

I nodded. It seemed like people who had issues with homosexuality had an unusual propensity to immediately think of sex when they came across a gay couple. That seemed counterintuitive to me, but it was true. And I had heard my father make enough disparaging comments about Noah’s sex life to know he wasn’t an exception.

“Yeah, that’s it exactly,” I said. “Plus, I don’t want your first impression of them to be the way they’re acting right now. I know you must already think my parents are complete jerks from the things you’ve heard, but they’re good people, and they love me and Noah.”

Micah cupped the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair. “I don’t think they sound like jerks. Despite what you might think, honey, when you talk about your parents, you always say many more good things than bad.” He gazed into my eyes with an expression that was so full of love it almost made my knees buckle. “I admire how dedicated you are to your family. Being so loyal to people right after they’ve hurt you can’t be easy. You know, you really sell yourself short, Ben. I think you’re incredibly brave.”

F
OUR
hours later, I didn’t feel particularly brave. I was fully clothed, huddled underneath my comforter, soaking my pillow with tears. Needless to say I had gotten nowhere with my parents. They were still resolute in their demand that I “stop this despicable behavior and come to your senses.” And the funny thing, if you could call any part of the whole situation funny, was that it was no longer my own feelings, thoughts, and behavior that I found despicable.

Somewhere along the way, I had come to terms with myself, and now my parents’ behavior struck me as completely out of line and outrageous. Even though I knew they weren’t acting any differently than they had my entire life.

Maybe my brother was right. Maybe it was hopeless to try to change their viewpoint on this. Maybe finding myself really did mean losing my parents. And cue the waterworks.

Let’s both take a moment to be grateful that you’re reading this and not actually watching it all go down, because there’s nothing more pathetic than a guy in his midthirties crying over his mommy.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because when I heard my phone ringing and poked my head out from underneath the blanket, it was pitch black. I fumbled on the nightstand and eventually brought the phone to my ear. “’Lo.” Damn, did my voice sound as bad outside as it did in my head? All scratchy and sore, like I had been singing or yelling or crying. Okay, yeah, it was the last one, but I was holding out hope it wouldn’t be obvious.

“Shit.” It was Noah. “That bad, huh?”

There was no point in denying it. “Uh-huh.”

He let out a long, loud sigh. “I’m coming with you the next time you go over there.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Noah. They’re as bad as I’ve ever seen them. We can’t subject Clark to that.”

“Not Clark. Just me.”

I was shocked speechless. Noah had absolutely refused to come to any family gathering—whether a casual lunch or Christmas dinner—without Clark since the moment he came out. No, it was actually even earlier than that, probably since they started dating, but all of us thought they were just roommates.

“Why now?” I asked. “You’ve always insisted on bringing him. What’s changed?”

Another sigh, and then: “You. You’re what’s changed. Look, I gave up on having any kind of decent relationship with Mom and Dad before I entered my teens. But you… I still don’t think it’ll work. I still think they’re hateful assholes. But if you insist on trying, then I’ll be right there by your side. You’re my brother, and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

I started blubbering again, which was even more humiliating with my tough-guy brother listening to me, but I couldn’t help it. “Thanks, Noah. I didn’t know if I could face them again, but if you’re with me….”

“Yeah, I know. Get some sleep, Ben. I’ll talk to you later this week, and we’ll figure out a time to go see Mom and Dad. Good night.”

“Night.”

Chapter Nineteen

I
WISH
I could tell you that having Noah come with me to see my parents fixed everything right up. But it didn’t. As long as we didn’t talk about our personal lives, things stayed civil. My father asked about work. My mother took an unnatural interest in the weather. And when we got to the part of the scheduled programming where Noah or I would try to get through to them about who we were, it all fell apart and we were back to square one. The whole thing was frustrating to say the least.

Seeing as how my relationship with my parents was on life support as it was, I decided that it made sense to just pull the Band-Aid of denial off in one fast motion. So I made plans with the guy in my circle of friends who found it damn near impossible to keep any sort of secret under wraps and explained why I would no longer be bringing women to parties or going trolling with him at bars. My cell phone was ringing before I made it home that night, and I confirmed the information to a few more people. I figured that’d be the end of it, I had come out. After that, none of my friends raised a fuss, for the most part. But there were definitely a few exceptions.

I was at my buddy Neil’s house about a week later for a bi-monthly poker game he held. It might have been my imagination that a couple of guys had trouble making eye contact with me or that the people in the kitchen got unusually quiet when I walked into the room. But paranoia could not explain the snide remarks Tristan kept muttering
almost
under his breath.

“Oh, I better be careful about bending over like that around Ben” after he picked up a card that he dropped on the floor.

“This isn’t an invitation” when he walked by the chair where I was sitting and brought his crotch oddly close to my face.

And then, apropos of nothing at all, “You marched in any parades lately, Benny boy?”

It took a great deal of self-restraint for me not to slam my cards down on the table before I got up and walked out of the room. Dealing with those types of comments was new for me, and I wasn’t sure how to respond without getting into a fight or inciting even more nasty remarks.

I had barely made it to the entryway when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around and tightened my fists at my sides, wishing for the first time that I had asked my brother to teach me one or two of his kickboxing moves.

Neil’s arms flew up, and he took a step back. “Hey, stand down, man. I was just coming to ask if you’re okay.”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. But I’m leaving.”

Neil shook his head. “Please don’t. Look, Ben, Tristan’s an asshole. You know that. Just ignore him.”

I dragged my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Yeah, I know. But I’m not going to be the butt of his jokes all night.”

“So you’re just going to let him push you out of here? That’s exactly what he wants, you know.”

Yeah, Neil was right. And I didn’t want to give that smug bastard the satisfaction of knowing he’d succeeded. “Okay, fine. I’ll go back in there, but I’m done taking Tristan’s crap.”

Neil covered his mouth with his hand and tried to hold back a laugh.

“What?” I asked. He shook his head. “What?” I repeated more loudly.

“Nothing, it’s just….” He laughed again. “If you go in there and talk about ‘taking his crap’ and being the ‘butt of his jokes’, he might implode from all the gay joke opportunities.”

I smacked Neil’s shoulder. “Very nice, Neil. I thought you were on my side here.” My smile took the sting out of my words. Frankly, I was relieved that I could have a conversation with at least one old friend without feeling uncomfortable. “All right, let’s go back in there.”

We hadn’t even gotten far enough into the room to take our seats when Tristan got back to his commentary, no longer bothering with any pretense of subtlety.

“Are you feeling better now, Ben? I bet it had to hurt to sit down for so long considering what you take up your ass nowadays.”

I stumbled to a halt, trying to formulate some sort of response, but Neil beat me to it.

“You have a lot of experience getting fucked up the ass, Tristan? No? Then keep your helpful insight to yourself.”

Drunk-as-usual Clayton joined in. “I used to date a chick that liked to take it in the back door,” he slurred. “And she never had any problem sitting around after.” He took a swig of his beer and then quickly set it down, causing it to tip and splash on the table. “And it ain’t ’cause I’m small, neither. I’d whip it out to show you that I’m packin’, but I’m a grow-er not a show-er, so….” He finished his thought with a shrug and drained the rest of his beer.

Tristan scowled at Clayton and then looked around the table. “So we’re all just going to sit here and pretend like everything’s normal? Doesn’t it bother any of you that Ben’s suddenly decided to start fucking guys?”

Jack, who was usually a reserved, goes-to-church-on-Sundays, has-a-wife-and-three-kids-and-coaches-kids’-football type of man, apparently decided he’d had enough of the entire conversation, because he glared at Tristan and raised his voice for what might have been the first time in his life. “I don’t care who Ben’s fucking, but I do care who I’m fucking, and if I don’t get home at a reasonable hour tonight, that’ll be nobody. I have no interest in spending the night on the couch, so let’s stop talking about Ben’s love life and start focusing on cards.”

That seemed to do the trick, because everybody settled down, and we played poker.

D
ESPITE
all the family pain and the awkwardness with my friends, I was still happier than I ever had been in my life. I was spending a lot of time with my brother, connecting in a way that we never had as kids. I made new friends, many of whom I met through Noah or Micah. And even though I hadn’t known them long, I felt closer to my new friends than I did to the guys I had been hanging around with for years. Plus, I reconnected with an old friend—Clark and I were almost as tight as we had been when we were younger.

Put that together with the fact that my stomach no longer felt like it was eating itself due to constant anxiety, and it would have been enough to make me glad I had finally taken ownership and control of my life. And then there was Micah. Sharp as a whip, sexy as sin, and 100 percent mine.

He was working like a dog, getting ready for his upcoming trial while simultaneously trying to broker some kind of settlement and managing the rest of his case load. I think the man billed more hours during that three-month period than some lawyers did in half the year. But through it all, he made time for me.

Most evenings he pulled himself away from the office to have dinner with me, and at least a couple of days a week he shut down and got home at a reasonable hour so we could spend the night together. Well, I thought we were spending the night together. The reduction in my stress level had a proportionate impact on my ability to sleep soundly, which meant I fell asleep and stayed that way until morning. Especially when I was in Micah’s bed.

But on the second Sunday in September, I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and noticed that Micah’s side of the bed was empty. After draining my bladder, I stumbled out of the bathroom to go look for him. A sliver of light leaking from underneath the door to his home office told me exactly where to find my wayward boyfriend.